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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564736">Preternatural</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_Rex/pseuds/Guardian_Rex'>Guardian_Rex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danny Phantom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Danny Fenton Has Panic Attacks, Danny Thinks he is a psychic, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Phamily AU, Phantom Family AU, Psychics, Sensory Overload</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:00:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_Rex/pseuds/Guardian_Rex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny Fenton was just a normal kid, if you discounted that he could build a gravity inverter in an afternoon, had painted an accurate painting of the night sky for every night that occured in his city over a year, knew every fact one could know about the stars, built a gaming console for his best friends when he was only 12- ok, maybe it wasn't a surprise that his family had a history of psychics.  After all, between the machanical engineering, chemistry, and parapsychology, no one normal could manage everything his parents did.  So, maybe when he turned on the portal, it just ramped up his psychic abilities to 11?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Danny Fenton &amp; Jack Fenton &amp; Jazz Fenton &amp; Maddie Fenton, Danny Fenton &amp; Tucker Foley &amp; Sam Manson, Danny Fenton &amp; Wesley Weston</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Perception</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As promised via tumblr, we have the Danny Thinks He's Psychic AU!  Thank you for all of your encouragement!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When the agony, the horror, and the panic wore off, Danny looked at his best friends, had them carry him up the stairs to his room, and then passed out on his bed.  When he woke up, he was different, changed in a way that he could feel deep inside of himself, both physically and mentally.  The most obvious thing that marked this change was almost mistakable as his ADHD acting up.  He’d been able to hear the electricity running through the walls before when things were quiet around the house, as rare as that may have been, but now the whine and rush of wire-thin lightning echoed in his ears along with the pounding of his father’s footfalls, his sister’s writing, his mother’s bustling even deep down in the lab.  This is the first sign.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny clamped his hands over his head and whined as the sounds hit him all at once, like hammers against his skull that reverberated around it with every impact.  He breathed deep and in his half-conscious overload, even that sound is like a hurricane that’s tossed his roof and walls away from him.  It takes hours, days, an eternity to get the hum and buzz and snap of the electricity, the booming footfalls, the rattling noise of every sound in the house out of him but eventually, he imagined pulling all of it into his throat and pouring it out of him and his face buries in his pillow to muffle the sound of the scream that leaves him.  The bed trembled and rocked like an Earthquake has hit but that could easily be his own shaking or merely his imagination so he screamed and screamed until the burn of his lungs demand he stops and breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When finally, Danny could hear and feel and experience the world without drowning in its sensations, he registered a new feeling that was alarming for wholly other reasons.  There was something on his back, a weight light enough that any other time he might not’ve noticed it.  With the slowness of mounting dread, Danny lifted his head from his pillow and turned it to see… a translucent blob of green resting on his back.  When he shifted to roll over, the blob floated up into the air like a bubble, and he reached out with a finger outstretched.  “Huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red circles appeared on the blob and blinked and those were eyes that stared at him while he scrambled back until his head smacked against the headboard of his bed.  It chirped at him, floating closer and bobbing in the air as though on rippling water, eyes roving over his body as panic quickened his breath and dogged his pulse to a pace he couldn’t keep track of.  It got closer, and Danny stared in terror, until it brushed against his cheek, soft and cool and kinda squishy.  Then the blob started vibrating and the chirps grew louder, higher, and something in him relaxed ever so slightly.  Every muscle grew steadily loose until there was a blobby little ghost thing nuzzling him and purring while he took in the fact that this was a thing happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uuuummm…”  he said oh so intelligently before the door to his room was gently knocked on.  “Yeah, Jazz?”  He grimaced, clutching and rubbing his throat as though that’d alleviate the feeling that someone had shoved sharkskin down it.  Panic rushed through him when the door opened and he realized that his sister would see the tiny eldritch abomination sitting (laying?  resting.) on his shoulder like a pirate’s parrot.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Danny could go about hiding the little blob thing so Jazz didn’t freak out, a familiar face framed by orange hair popped in through the cracked open door.  “Are you alright, Danny?”  Danny moved to answer, his hands raised in the air, but Jazz’s eyes widened and the air around her flickered and flashed with </span>
  <b>days spent shivering with a cold that felt like it was burning him away from the inside out; the christmas turkey come to life to attack while their parents were arguing and Jazz smacked it away with the broom to buy time; he had fallen from a tree and cried and screamed and she was there almost faster than their Mom was</b>
  <span> yellow tinged orange light that left Danny almost more dizzy than the sound of her voice did.  “Ohmygosh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Danny</span>
  </em>
  <span> what happened to you!?”  Danny was, in this moment, reminded that he never took the HAZMAT off and that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> go through </span>
  <b>burning, pain, painpainpAINHURTHURT</b>
  <span> hell recently.  He signed, very quickly, to try and inform Jazz that he couldn’t handle noise right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t work.  Soon enough, Danny was in his Dad’s arms and then the RV and in a blink, the hospital.  The whole time, the little blob in his arms got no attention besides his own clinging to it, taking comfort in it’s thrumming and vibrating that he was almost certain was like purring.  Thankfully, Mom was the one driving, and his sister was in passenger so that Dad could keep a hold on him and take him out of the car into the hospital with speed and steadiness that few would expect of him.  At some point, his suit was removed and he was hooked up to plenty of machines and then, well, he was asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A boot like a truck pressed against his spine, shoving him into the hot red stone beneath him.  He could feel the aching, burning, crawling rot of </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>his</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> corruption, the power pushing him down as much as the boot and reaching into him to twist him into some horrible </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>thing like he’d done his own mother and brother and</em>
  </b>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny opened his eyes to see Something was <em>wrong</em>.  There was a blanket on him that was not his, something practically a sheet covering his body instead of his pjs, and there were things <em>inside of him.</em>  A constant beeping noise was ringing in his skull, faster now than when he'd first become aware of the other wrong things about his situation, and that managed to make him open his eyes.  The lights felt blinding, but when he moved to raise his hands something kept them in place, and turning his head revealed a few things.  The monitors on adjustable arms and family members sitting all around him plus the screams he could hear through the walls like they were in the room with him all pointed at Hospital, and the lights grew yet brighter as panic set in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz's voice was the first he could recognize, though he wasn't sure what she was saying.  What he was sure of was that something was resting on his head, where his hair should've been but instead there was thick cloth.  It was a calm presence, small and cool, and kind.  He focused on it, and he felt the heat and pain flowing ever so steadily into that cooling ball.  It settled on his chest and he focused on it, imagined all the <strong>too loud too bright too much</strong> as a river that flowed from him into the ball until he could see and smell and feel without every inch of him crying out in pain.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother and sister stood on his left, his father on his right.  That little blob ghost that he’d seen before was resting on his chest, glowing bright enough that it outshone the lights above him, cementing to Danny that his parents couldn’t see it.  It looked up at him with wide red eyes that held little orange pupils right in the center of them and whined, reminding him of a service dog.  For a moment, it’s pseudo-holographic form flickered to that of a dog’s head, returning to a near featureless blob a moment later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz was waving a hand near his face ever so slowly and Danny finally gave her his focus best he could, turning to look her in the eye.  Slowly, like lifting a block of cement, Danny raised his hands and signed a simple, </span>
  <b>“Hi.”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Bless her heart, Jazz shushed their parents - they were starting to get too loud again - and signed slowly back to him.  “</span>
  <b>Danny, what happened?</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>No interruptions?  Can’t say too fast.</b>
  <span>”  He looked from his sister to his parents, who both immediately agreed in sign and took a deep breath.  Then he began the agonizing ordeal of informing his family how he let peer pressure get him cooked alive in the ghost portal.  They didn’t take it well.  Mom’s ocean blue was the red-orange of a molotov cocktail in the center and Dad’s traffic cone orange was icy indigo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Danny’s parents piled on every layer of ‘that was beyond dangerous and you shouldn’t have done it, how are you alive, I’m so glad you are,’ Danny found his fingers gently stroking back and forth over the little blob on his chest.  It moved, and something not quite liquid, not quite plasma moved around inside of him, tingling all through him like a current.  It was hot, but not as hot as before, and his fingers were steadily moving faster than they had minutes ago.  Soon that tingling itch was in his throat, and he waved at his parents.  “</span>
  <b>Can I have some water?</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before anyone could say anything, Wes opened the door - wider than he was used to seeing a door - and walked in with a case full of Gatorade.  He froze, staring at Danny as he reached out and returned to hugging and cuddling the blob that wriggled out of his arms to stare at Wes.  Then, with the snark only a concerned cousin can conjure, “Since when are you a fucking psychic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Softly, but with feeling, Danny whispered, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hypothesis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Explanations and hypotheses happen, while Danno feels ever so slightly better.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I dearly apologize on how short this is, I was going to lengthen it but it refuses to come to me.  Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In a hospital room, laying down and yet closer to sitting up than a normal person should be able to be, Danny Fenton stared at his cousin Wesley in utter bafflement.  One source of that bafflement could’ve been the crisp outline of electric cobalt blue wrapped around and emanating from Wes like a holographic superimposition of himself.  Another might have been the gatorade he’d brought with him for stars knew why.  Danny’s main focus at the moment was split between the odd choice of words Wes had made and the feeling of fire lit against sandpaper that was his throat after that impossible attempt at making his vocal cords do work.  Thankfully, Danny didn’t have to be the one to question what had been said, though he wouldn’t have started off with the question his Mom did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wesly Otar Weston, watch your language and your volume!”  Leave it to Mom to make a whisper seem like the loud warning hiss of a leopard ready to pounce.  Wes, like a sane individual, grimaced and nodded his apology.  “Besides, being psychic is a family trait and you shouldn’t be surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Jazz hissed, before returning to sign.  “</span>
  <b>What do you mean ‘a family trait’?  Psychics aren’t real and we have a genuine issue going on right now.</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Psychics </b>
  <b>
    <em>are</em>
  </b>
  <b> real, Jazzy.  Heck, your old man and little brother have both been psychic your whole life!  Haven’t you seen Danny’s eyes glowing when he’s excited?”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Jazz took a deep breath, her lilac permeated with yellow and now a shade of orange.  “</span>
  <b>Tricks of the light.  And Wes, why do you have gatorade?</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just sorta knew that they’d be needed and then when I was buying them I got your text so I came as fast as I could, and I’m glad I did.”  Wes handed Danny a gatorade, and Jazz took it, unscrewing it and holding it to his lips so that he could drink.  He shouldn’t’ve been able to sign right now, much less hold up a full bottle of liquid and drink it.  Danny was, with that and his petting of blobby, all too happy to just lay back and listen to the conversation going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gatorade has electrolytes that water doesn’t, which makes it better for a burn victim like Danny to have than water… how did you know that?”  Jazz at least was able to speak at a volume that didn’t make Danny’s skull throb, though with every gulp and every tingly warm pulse of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> from where Blobby was resting and now purring on his chest up to his throat, everything was feeling steadily less overwhelming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>No clue,</b>
  <span>” Wes signed as he put the other bottles down.  “</span>
  <b>I just sorta knew, just like I knew how to get around the hospital staff while Dad and Wayne are busy at the desk.</b>
  
  <b>I’m psychic too so I guess this is just part of it?  What I don’t get is why Danny’s aura is so much brighter than it was before.  It’s like looking into a bonfire, looking at him.</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Danny’s gaze shifted between his parents, and he could tell from the way his Mom’s brow furrowed and her teal light (aura) flickered around that she was running the numbers rapidly and coming to a conclusion she wasn’t entirely fond of.  “</span>
  <b>Psychics are the rare human able to utilize the metaphysical energy of the ghost zone without the use of a cursed artifact, and their bodies can conduct that energy somewhat safely.</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Being on the inside of the portal when it opened up - which you shouldn’t have done, mister - might’ve flooded Danny with so much energy it gave him a super charge!  That must be why he’s healing up so fast!</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Portal?</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Danny </b>
  <b>
    <em>is</em>
  </b>
  <b> healing at a remarkable rate - he’s lucky to have even survived, let alone rested for who knows how long and then started signing!  The sensory overloads may be his body using that extra energy to fix up all of his vital functions as rapidly as possible.”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Is that why everything hurts so much?</b>
  <span>”  Danny was sure he was on pain meds, but that didn’t mean everything wasn’t hurting a lot.  He just tried very hard not to think about how much it hurt.  “</span>
  <b>Like, the healing process feels like itching and stuff cause the body is putting everything back together and stuff, right?  So the pain is everything knitting itself back extra fast?”</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>That’s right son!  Though, the meds should be keeping you relatively painless.</b>
  <span>”  Dad frowned.  “</span>
  <b>They’d also be keeping you pretty loopy.</b>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hey, can we get back to the portal bit?”  Wes raised his voice a touch above a whisper, but not by much.  At the same time, uncle Walter and his older cousin Wayne - who, if he remembered correctly was going by Spike nowadays - walked into the room with a nurse in tow.  Danny almost sighed, as he realized that the story would be getting repeated again, and he wasn’t a fan of having even told it the first time.  “What portal was Danny inside of?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you liked it!  If you did, please share it where you can and leave a comment below.  Have a wonderful day, stay safe, and remember that black lives matter!  Happy Pride!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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